


The sea to your stars

by Lollipop_Panda



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 4+1, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fukurodani Volleyball Club - Freeform, M/M, SaruYukie, nature metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-18 22:11:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19343671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lollipop_Panda/pseuds/Lollipop_Panda
Summary: Washio likes to think he is made of shadows, so it's only natural that Konoha be his light.or, the four times Washio thinks of stars, and the one time he talks about them.





	The sea to your stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [novocaine_sea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/novocaine_sea/gifts).



> From the prompt : All the stars

Washio Tatsuki has always been the silent type, it was never in his nature to be loud, to attract attention to himself; his height does enough of that for him already. 

He is happier to remain in the shadows, and likes to compare himself to the sea at night. He’s content to let others take the spotlight and shine, he stands tall, his taciturn looks dissuading anyone to approach, even if, had any of them bothered to learn anything about him, they would find him to be as gentle as the next person. 

When Washio starts his first year at Fukurodani, he’s already as tall as the third years. He can hear the whispers of his classmates around him, wondering how old he is, saying how scary he looks… He stays in the shadows, trying not to attract more attention. 

There is a spark of gold in his peripheral, but when he looks over, it is already gone. 

He chalks it up to his imagination, wild and over the top as it is in young minds such as his. 

Washio Tatsuki introduces himself on the first day, and finds himself staring into yellow eyes at lunch, gaze piercing, hair even more wild than his own, white and streaked, and he thinks he’s found the glimmer of gold he saw earlier, although it is a lot dimmer than he’d first imagined. 

Bokuto Koutarou is loud and attracts attention to himself like a beacon. He’s a lighthouse in the darkness, and Washio sits and listens, gives his input when necessary. He is the waves washing against the shore.

Volleyball is something he has played casually in his backyard for the past year or so, starting when he decided he just really didn’t like basketball. So being on a team like this one is new to him, but definitely not unwelcome. The idea of having someone to help on the court, of being supported himself… It’s what made him start team sports in the first place. 

Gold sparkles somewhere in his subconscious as he hears a loud chiming laugh. 

Bokuto is at his side, having not left him ever since finding out he was planning on joining the club. He looks over at him as he laughs, and frowns, deciding that his imagination truly is playing tricks on him today, romanticizing the echo in the gym. 

The coach tells him to get on the court, and so he does, staring at his shoes timidly, Bokuto thumps him on the back and asks him what they did to offend him. By the time he has considered his answer, the other has already moved on to talk to someone else. 

That is fine, Washio is used to being alone, of standing in the darkness. He looks up, forwards, to his opponents on the other side of the net, and his breath catches. 

Maybe his imagination hadn’t been all that wild today. In fact, Washio thinks to himself as he stares, his imagination definitely couldn’t come up with this. 

There, standing opposite him, chatting animatedly to someone even smaller than him, is a boy made of gold itself. 

His hair shines like the sun and eyes glow like the moon reflects off of water in the darkest of nights. 

Washio has never wanted to be the darkness more than he has in this moment, to allow the light to reflect off of him and shine as brightly as it deserves. 

The shrill blow of the whistle breaks his daze and the other straightens and starts moving. There’s a burst of entire galaxies in his mind as their eyes lock. Washio takes his cue to move, to start this new dance on the court, the squeaking of shoes the music to accompany the adrenalin pounding in his ears. 

-

Konoha Akinori. 

That’s the name that echoes in his mind as Washio lays in bed, staring at the ceiling. 

It rings like a bell in his ears, melodious and mesmerizing, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he recalls all the romantic movies his mother likes to watch, and thinks that they have nothing on this feeling. 

\- 

Time is something that Washio thought would help. His first infatuation with Konoha Akinori, class 1-3, should have been just that- after all, they don’t exactly go well together; Konoha is bright and snarky, and Washio is dark and brooding- or so he’s been told. 

He had hoped, in some kind of foolish belief, that the books and movies had it all wrong, that his admiration would wear off with time, that he would become immune to the golden presence of Konoha in his life, instead, the opposite had happened, and he had only been drawn more and more by this warmth, like a moth to a flame, powerless to the pull of the light, to the glimmer of stars in those golden eyes. 

It isn’t until the day they win that fateful match, where they defeat the opponents that had previously floored them, that Fukurodani’s wings spread as a whole. Washio, as ever, looks to Konoha and feels his heart stop.

Gold is no longer enough for the being that is Konoha Akinori, and Washio is very sure this isn’t infatuation anymore. 

-

Akaashi and he have developed an odd kind of friendship, they are both the silent types, though Washio’s mind isn’t the racing cityscape that his kouhai’s is. No, his thoughts are tranquil and calm, just like waves that lick at the shore. The two of them like to sit in silence and simply bask in each other's presence, sometimes there is an exchange of words, hushed conversation and quiet secrets passing between them. 

Washio finds out one day that Akaashi often compares Bokuto to a star, and he finds himself nodding. He understands that feeling, he thinks as he looks over to the beacon of gold that always seems to shine brighter for him. He understands: Bokuto is Akaashi’s star.

But Konoha is an entire galaxy, and first love is bittersweet.

First loves only last in fairy tales, where the prince sweeps the princess (why are they never both princes? Ten year old Washio had asked) off her feet and they ride into the sunset. 

What is one to do, Washio wonders as he watches Konoha spike, when the princess is made of the sunset itself, and the prince is the waves that prefer to wash along the shore in the night? 

-

On Bokuto’s birthday in their third year, Washio decides he wants to confront his feelings. It has, after all, been a long time coming, and he would like to finish this year with no regrets; he doesn’t want Konoha to be the one that got away. 

And so, it is a few days later, shortly after Konoha’s own eighteenth birthday, that Washio asks him to stay late that evening so they can practice together, the sun is already setting by the time the others are leaving. Komi gives him a knowing look and a wink as he waves goodbye, and Sarukui smiles in that way he has of making everyone feel like he can read their minds but still somehow make them comfortable all the same. Bokuto gives him a blatant thumbs up that Onaga tries to stand in front of to hide as Akaashi hurriedly ushers him out, only looking back and giving Washio a nod. He’s glad that Konoha had gone to fetch something from the supply closet. 

They practice as normal, Washio’s nerves washing away in the light of Konoha’s presence; after all, stargazing has never been a stressful activity. 

As they close the gym, the sun has disappeared into the horizon and made way to the stars above them. They both stare up at them, and when Washio looks down his breath catches, watching as gold reflects the sea that stretches across the sky, eyes glittering. 

There are moments in life when your instinct tells you ‘this is it’ and, Washio thinks as the bright light of Konoha’s being is surrounded by darkness -the same shadows he himself likes to live in- and amplified tenfold, that this is one of those moments. 

“If you’re about to say something about the stars and my eyes, I need you to know that Komi will be getting two thousand yen.” 

Washio can’t even find it in himself to be disappointed, not when those eyes are turned on him, full of mirth and something else that’s been there for longer than he’s willing to admit, 

“And if I don’t?” He decides he couldn’t have picked a better answer, because Konoha’s eyes only get brighter, sparkling in the darkness as he tilts his head. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Washio idly wonders if he’d get yelled at if he ever told him it makes him look cute. 

“Then Sarukui gets five thousand yen…” It’s Washio’s turn to tilt his head, silently prompting Konoha to keep going, “Either way, I’m kind of hoping we both get a date out of this…” The tone is casual, as is the shrug, but Konoha likes to look people in the eye when he talks to them, unless he’s nervous, and Washio really doesn’t like when those eyes aren’t trained on him, especially when it’s dark, when it’s his time to shine. And so, he carefully brings a finger under Konoha’s chin and coaxes him to look back at him, getting what he wants as that _gold_ turns back to him and bathes him in light, warming him from his very core,

“I will talk about stars later then, maybe over cake, in that shop you like so much,” Washio is glad he is accustomed to being in the shadows, because he is sure he would have missed the pretty flush that warms Konoha’s cheeks otherwise. 

\- 

For their last outing as a team they had, of course, chosen the beach. Bokuto had roped them all into beach volley and - predictably- gotten sun-burnt, and was now chatting animatedly around the fire with everyone else. Washio had smiled that soft smile of his all throughout the day, but now that night has fallen, the stars are out and the sound of the waves has changed as they lap at the shore languidly. 

He is brought from his musings by a gentle nudge prompting him to look over, brown meeting gold, taking in the mischievous glint of them, watching as matching locks of hair move with the nudge of Konoha’s chin, gesturing away to the shore. He glances over, back to his team, feeling guilty for wanting to leave them, wanting to simply indulge in the dark night and the bright light at his side.

He catches Akaashi’s gaze who gives him a nudge of his own, quietly indicating they’ll be fine as Onaga makes ushering gestures with his hands, Yukie rolls her eyes at them and snuggles into Sarukui’s side, a knowing smile pulling at her lips. Her boyfriend glances at them briefly before looking away again, smiling idly as he wraps his arm tighter around Yukie. He is genuinely surprised though, when all Komi does is glance over at them with a small smirk, but isn’t about to complain, and gives Kaori a thankful smile as she moves over for them to make their exit, ushering them away. 

And so, he and Konoha leave their friends for a moment, Bokuto grinning at them as they do, giving a thumbs up, and they make their way to the shore, the echoes of laughter and cheering behind them feeling like home. 

Washio, for all his stoic appearance, really likes wrapping an arm around Konoha as they walk. It is made a little awkward however by the sand under their feet making the ground uneven, so he contents himself with simply holding hands, which is just as nice, Konoha’s hand always warm in his larger palm. They walk along the shore, waves nipping lovingly at their feet as the stars shine above them, twinkling with their blessings. 

They stop to admire the sky, the wide expanse above them shining and shimmering, only made brighter by the water under them, reflecting their light. Washio is reminded of a time some months prior, when he had looked down only to see the stars mirrored in pools of gold. They are just as bright today as they had been then, and this time, when Washio takes a breath to start talking, Konoha doesn’t interrupt. 

“All the stars in the world…” He pauses, awkward with his words, unused to voicing his most intimate thoughts, especially when those mesmerizing eyes focus on him, gold and beautiful, windows to the soul of the most incredible being he knows, “They’re not enough. Comparing your eyes to the skies would be an insult to you…” 

The gold disappears momentarily, flutters and flickers wondrously as Konoha blinks, that pretty flush he loves so is back, but the eye-contact doesn’t break, instead a smile grows upon lips as soft as silk and a quiet chuckle is lost to the sound of the waves as Washio lets himself muse, amazed, that he has the privilege of that knowledge. Konoha leans in, carefully pulls him down, and reminds him of just how soft those lips are. 

There is loud whooping and cheering behind them, where the fire still burns brightly, the light of it blending into the shadows. 

“You all owe me five thousand yen!” 

Washio’s grin mirrors the one pressed against his lips and the sound of laughter rings into the night, golden and bell-like, the stars winking mischievously above as the waves lap tranquilly at their feet. 

First love doesn’t have to be bittersweet, and sometimes- when galaxies and oceans collide, when the dark finds its light and the sea mirrors the stars - fairy tales do come true.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/PocketoPanda)


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